It Had to Be You
by AndThenIDied
Summary: Craig's had it bad for Tweek Tweak for a while. Maybe, despite his awkward behavior, he can finally ask her out. Fem!Tweek. Creek.


***Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to South Park.**

**-This fic contains GENDERBEND, which means, Tweek is female. If you don't like that idea, please do not read-**

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**It Had to Be You **

"Craig, why do you have Tweek's underwear in your dresser?"

Oh. Oops.

You reluctantly pause your videogame to instead turn around and be greeted by the sight of your best friend (or "bro" as he insists) holding up a small white article of clothing between his thumb and pointer finger: like it had just been dipped in toxic chemical waste.

You can feel your face immediately flush deep red as you scramble up from your bedroom floor, snatch the underwear from Clyde's grasp, and stuff it back into the drawer filled with similar pieces of underpants. You actually do have a legitimate answer as to why your drawer is filled to the brim with girls' underwear. But first, you angrily ask:

"Why the hell were you going through my stuff?" You want to erase the knowing-smirk adorning Clyde's stupid face with a cheese grater. Seriously, though, he didn't have an excuse to be going through your drawers this time. It's not like he pissed himself watching Halloween again and needed a fresh pair of boxers (that has happened so many times that you've lost count).

"That's not the problem at hand." Yes it is. "The problem is: you have _Tweek's _underwear in your _dresser. _Are you going on panty raids without me?" Clyde actually sounds hurt at the notion, and you slap him upside the head to remind him of what a dip shit he can be.

"Tweek asked me to keep them here until she figured out her—uh—gnome problem…or something." You mumble, rubbing at your face in embarrassment. You can tell it's still red from the heat coming off of it.

Shit, you've had it bad for Tweek for a while, and Clyde knows it. You told him a few months ago while trying to get out of a dare which involved pissing on Cartman's lawn (that's a long story in itself, and you'll have to tell it another time). The brunet had been more than excited about the information—thinking that the only thing you'd ever be attracted to were guinea pigs. Ever since you've told him, he's been on your case, trying to get you to ask Tweek out, go on a date, etcetera etcetera…

But you're too inept for that. You don't get girls, and they definitely don't get you. As far as looks, you're—well—kind of awkward. You're too long, your nose is crooked, your eyebrows are too bushy, your skin is greasier than Dog Poo's hair, and despite the fact that you're a sophomore in high school, you still wear braces while most kids' teeth have aligned by now.

Your personality isn't "to die for" either. You're boring (as people love to inform you), and would much rather stay at home on a Friday night and watch The Goonies with a jar full of Vegemite (fuck you, Vegemite is fantastic) than make any sort of plans.

However, despite your lack of appeal, Tweek and you are good friends. Actually, you're pretty sure that you're Tweek's closest friend. You both played together a lot in elementary and middle school. Clyde and Token aren't the biggest fans of hanging out with her, but you've been diligent in reserving time with Tweek. Vegemite may be great, but it can take a backseat when Tweek's in the car.

"Oh my God, Craig, you are so whipped." Clyde sniggers, taking a seat at the end of your bed. The mattress sags under his weight.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You retort, shooting an angry finger in Clyde's direction.

"I _mean, _you need to ask her out soon. Before I do it for you." Clyde clarifies, finding your angry appearance humorous.

"Shut up." Is all you grumble before you slink back to your videogame, resuming from where you left off.

"I'm being serious." He insists. You can here him shifting around on your bed behind you, probably lying down in a more comfortable position.

"Yeah, well, so am I. Shut up."

"Come on, Craig." Clyde whines. "What's the worst that could happen? She says no. Big deal, then you guys can just continue being friends and you can go back to lovin' on your guinea pigs."

"That's disgusting."

"It's true though. I mean, it's not like you're in danger of anyone else liking her." He points out. You glance back at Clyde in irritation, almost insulted.

"Why wouldn't anyone else like her?"

"She's cute and all, man, she's just…y'know…kind of weird."

You turn your head to look back at the television screen, deciding Clyde's face is too ugly to be worthy of your time.

"Fuck off, Tweek's not that weird."

"Really Craig?" Clyde asks sarcastically. "You have a drawer full of her underwear because she's convinced gnomes will steal them."

"So, that's just—"

"She thinks the government wants to harvest her body for reproductive services after the zombie apocalypse."

"She's just creative." You say after a moment, continuing to play your game quietly. You both laps into a comfortable silence for a while, before Clyde suddenly sighs.

"Aren't you hanging out with her tomorrow?" He asks, and you simply nod in response. Clyde lets out a frustrated breath of air. "Whatever man. Do what you want." He finally says. And that's that.

* * *

It's the next day, Saturday, and you're sitting inside of Harbuck's waiting for Tweek's shift to end in five minutes. She doesn't make the drinks, but instead wipes down tables and sweeps the floor. At the moment, you're sitting at a booth in the corner, watching her clean up a spilt drink like some kind of lovesick puppy. She's just wearing her usual work clothes: a pair of dark jeans and a forest green polo shirt, covered by a brown apron. But you can't help but think she looks great.

You know you should stop staring, since you probably look a bit on the creepy side, but you can't help it. She's just so…so…_cute, _and small, and soft, and shaky, with her fucked up hair, and…okay, Craig, stop. She's coming over here. Get a hold of yourself.

"Hi Craig." She says once she finally gets to your table.

"Hey." Your voice cracks and you want to die.

"I'm-I'm just about done. I just need to put this stuff b-back." She motions to the sopping cloth and spray that she's holding in one hand.

"Alright." You reply, leaning back in the booth to calm your nerves. "My parents are gone, so I was wondering if we could head to my house after? Watch a movie or something?" You ask, even though that's how you spend most of your time together. You know Tweek doesn't like when there aren't any adults in the house though. It makes her nervous.

Tweek seems to mull over the idea in her head, before squeaking a quick, "okay." She then screams at you to stay put while she puts her stuff away, like you'd ditch her or something.

When she comes out of the backroom, she's wearing the same clothes sans apron. She also threw on her ratty black jacket that you're pretty sure she's owned since the beginning of time.

"What movie are we going to watch?" Tweek asks anxiously as she gets into the shitty passenger seat of your dad's old pickup truck. You wait until she securely buckles herself in (she freaks out if you start the car too early) before shoving the key in the ignition and waiting for the truck to cough to life.

"I don't know." You shrug, pulling out of Harbuck's small parking lot. "You can pick the movie." You already know which movie she's going to suggest.

"Can we watch M-Monsters Inc.?" Yep. "Jesus, man, slow down!" She shrieks suddenly as you turn a particularly sharp corner. You mumble an apology and slow the car down.

"By the way." You say awkwardly after a few minutes of silence. "Clyde thinks I'm a total perv now because you left your underwear at my house." You glance over at Tweek to see her reaction before turning back to the road. Her face dusts a light shade of pink and she bites at her lip. God, she's so cute.

"Oh, sorry." She mumbles, playing with the end of her jacket.

"No problem. But if he asks you if I'm sneaking into your house at night, don't be surprised." She giggles at that, and you're proud that you made her emit such a noise.

"Um, hey Craig?"

"Yeah?"

"C-Can I, like, go up to your room and—ngh—change my…underwear real quick? Before the movie starts?" Fuck.

_Don't think of her changing in your room. Don't think of her changing in your room. Don't think of her changing in your room. _

It suddenly feels hot in here, and you're tempted to turn on the AC despite the chilly weather outside.

"Uh…y-yeah. I'll wait for you."

You pull up your driveway and nearly jump out of the car. The cool air calms you down, and you can feel the heat in your body receding.

You decide to make some popcorn while Tweek's upstairs, if not to keep yourself from going up there. The microwave beeps and you pour the steaming popcorn into a large plastic bowl before heading into the living room. Tweek's already sitting on the couch when you enter. She smiles at you, and you awkwardly smile back, placing the bowl on the coffee table while you set the movie up.

You keep the popcorn in your lap because it gives you an excuse to sit closer to Tweek than usual. She's immediately captured as soon as the movie starts, but you've seen it so many times that your mind begins to wander quickly; and you find yourself watching Tweek instead of the screen.

You begin thinking about what Clyde had said earlier. Maybe you _should _ask her out. I mean, it's not like you have to ask her to be your girlfriend or anything. You could go out on a date, and if it went horribly wrong…then you'd just go back to the way things were. After all, you didn't mind this: sitting at home and watching a movie with Tweek Tweak as she lightly leans against you, munching on some popcorn. You like this.

_But what if she says no? _

What if she says _yes?_

You could be all disgusting and cute together. Like hold hands, pay for her dinner, and _kiss. _You've never had a girlfriend before (shocking), but you've seen enough movies to know how dating works. You and Tweek would fit nicely together. At least, you think so.

And before your mind has even caught up with itself, you find yourself asking, "Hey Tweek?"

She looks over at you with her big brown eyes, which reflect the light of the screen. Jesus, they're so massive.

You swallow and scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. Your face is red. You can feel it. "Um, I-I was wondering…if-if you'd…y'know…" Shit, Tweek's staring at you as if you grew two heads or something. You want to take back saying anything at all. But at the same time you don't. You've wanted to do this for way too long. "…if you'd like to, maybe, go out with me. Like, on a—um—date." You finish lamely. You're still scratching at the back of your neck nervously. Your heart is pounding against your rib cage and you feel like you're about to throw it up right in her face.

Tweek's quiet for a long time, and each second of silence that passes by is like a blow to your self-esteem. Her face is just as red as yours is right now.

"Y-You're not joking, are you? Like, Clyde—erg—didn't tell you to do this?" Tweek's wringing her hands together nervously, and you shake your head quickly. The fact that she thinks you would joke about something like this kind of pisses you off, and at the same time, makes you like her more.

"No."

Silence again, but this time it doesn't last nearly as long. Slowly, a smile creeps onto Tweek's face, and you can swear you just shit your stomach into your pants.

"Yeah. I'll go out with you." She says quietly. Tweek hesitates before taking your hand, and the only thing you can think about is how sweaty your palm is, and if it grosses her out. "Does-does this mean you like me?" She asks. You just nod dumbly in response.

Silence comes down on the both of you again, save for the long forgotten movie in the background. Once again, Tweek is the one to break it, because you don't know where your voice is anymore.

"C-Can I kiss you?" She asks.

You feel like a bobble-head, and you probably lost a million brain cells from nodding so hard.

Tweek looks around the room in nervous embarrassment before she leans up, lightly pressed her soft lips to yours own. And in that moment, nothing else matters. Not that the popcorn just spilt everywhere, or that the television is still blaring in the background. It's just you and Tweek. And that's that.

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**Fluff is fluffy holy cow.**

***Syrina came up with the headcanon that Tweek gives Craig her underwear ahaha **


End file.
